I do not own The Walking Dead.

Previously:

How she had gone from wanting to be as far away as possible from anyone to never wanting to leave Daryl's arms, Faye didn't know. But for now, she felt safe enough to let the sobs rack her body.

"Gonna get you home."

Only the rumble of the motorcycle kept Faye awake on the ride to the prison. The cold of rushing through the roads at God knows what speed helped too, but Daryl had given her his poncho, and hiding into his back as her bangs covered her eyes prevented it from being too much of a bother.

She had been dreading the slowing of the vehicle. Not to mention the clinking of the gates being opened. That meant she was home.

All things considered, Faye should have relished in this. But, she didn't. The child didn't want to be surrounded by people staring at her, or be surrounded by people at all, whether she knew them or not. They'd talk to her, they'd want to know what happened, and they'd ask her questions she had no intention of answering. They were getting nothing out of her and if they didn't like it, they could go shove it up their asses.

The bike slowed to an almost stop as Faye heard the clunking of the gates, tilting her head sideways as they moved again. From underneath her bangs, the girl could just make out Maggie. It wouldn't surprise her if Glenn was on the other side. They were probably on watch duty together.

Daryl spoke, but the child barely heard him. Maybe he was being quiet, maybe she needed to listen more. "You ready for this?" In response, she hugged his waist tighter, although it didn't provide the comfort she wished it did. "Well, I'm stayin' right here." She nodded against his back. He had stopped the patient soothing once Faye's breathing had evened out, the tears no longer streaming down her face. Instead, he chose to act normally, despite the girl's almost constant silence. He became the strong anchor he thought he needed to be. The man probably made the right choice. It got them home, after all.

(Although, Faye didn't miss the sad looks Daryl gave her whenever he thought she wasn't watching.)

The loud rumbling finally stopped and Faye found herself resting her feet on the ground. As Daryl got off the bike, the girl was finally forced to lift her head and look around. Having said that, she didn't correct her hair as her bangs fell over her eyes, shielding the top half of her face. The sun glared at her through the patches of dark strands, a contrast to the previous day's heavy rain. Faye wasn't sure if she liked it or not, as if the light was angry with her for hiding, the heat would almost certainly make her sweat if she stayed in the over-sized poncho for too long. Daryl's voice broke her out of her thoughts as she obeyed him, lifting herself off the motorcycle almost robotically. Her head pounded as each foot reached the ground.

Faye tilted her head ever-so-slightly as her eyes met grass, slightly confused as to why Daryl hadn't driven the whole way into the prison. She realised he must have done it to not be surrounded with people, the fact no longer surprising her. He was thoughtful like that. Not all that many people knew it, but he was.

"Daryl!"

The voice registered in her head as Rick. Leader Rick. Leader Rick who would want to know what happened. Daryl held out an arm to her and Faye went to his side, restraining herself from completely hiding in his jacket. Everything was so open. She felt exposed, despite her surroundings being anything but a threat. Daryl's arm wrapped around her shoulders.

Glancing up, she saw Rick approach the two. The hunter spoke first. "Good to see you, man."

"Same goes for you, too." He replied. "We were gettin' worried, maybe somethin' happened."

Daryl started walking up the last bit of the drive, taking Faye with him, still under his arm. "Hell, if ya'll were worried here, you'd a flipped on my end."

Faye didn't raise her eyes to meet his, but the girl could practically feel the leader's eyes burning on her closed off figure. Rick's words were more hushed, but she didn't miss them. "The hell happened?"

"We were huntin' like normal when a load a walkers came through. Got separated and then the rain started, couldn't track her. Anyway, ended up in this town. Damn lucky, too, found 'er jacket on the floor. Search 'round that area, 'n found this house she coulda been in. Weren't there no more, though, and I couldn't search in the rain. Found 'er next day." If it was possible, Daryl's voice became quieter, an almost sinister edge to it. Faye stole a glance at him, and he wasn't looking at Rick, his blue eyes staring hard in front of him. The girl imagined he was trying not to get mad. "Find these two guys… attackin' her. Fuckin' sick bastards."

Rick seemed to understand the meaning behind 'attacking'. She ducked her head again as he replied, not masking the dark undertone of his voice. "You deal with 'em?"

"Oh, I dealt with 'em."

Faye chose to block out the rest of the conversation, doubting she would want to hear anymore. The words that had already been said made her inwardly cringe enough.

The ground became the grey cement colour the child knew well when Faye heard the first footsteps heading towards her. However, they stopped suddenly, and she raised her head again.

Sheriff's hat. Carl. Who hated her. Maybe. Why would he run up to her if he hated her? Also, why had he stopped?

Her answer lay with Rick, the man holding up his hand to stop the boy coming too close. The two exchanged looks, but Daryl guided her away, towards what she guessed was their cell block. Faye wasn't sure whether being away from Carl was what made her feel relieved, or if it was knowing he was there whenever she felt ready to deal with… everything.

"Come on," The hunter coaxed gently. "You should get some rest, it'll be quiet in the cell block. I can wake ya up later, get some food."

It was inside the building, just in the corridor, when Faye heard someone call out her name. Turning around, she saw a familiar face.

"Faye! You're back!" Patrick was walking in as he called out. Daryl was about to say something, but the girl stopped him. Patrick was one of the few people who were innocent in this world; it hadn't yet made him cold, despite being older than Faye and Carl. He had only ever killed one walker, and that was by pushing a cabinet down the stairs, the walker's head being crushed as it toppled down the stairs with the large wooden object on its skull. The girl doubted he knew how to properly use a gun, let alone if he had ever actually used one.

Faye felt the need to teach him, but also thought she should leave him be. Leave him as the harmless nerd that he was. Patrick was not a threat to her, he never had been, and he wasn't one now.

The child forced a small smile onto her face. Considering how quiet she had been, the girl guessed she looked more bright and alive with it on. She nodded. "It's okay, he's my friend."

It's okay.

She was going to have to start pretending at some point, why put off the inevitable?

Daryl frowned, unwilling to leave her, but removed the arm from her shoulders as the boy approached. "You sure?"

"Patrick couldn't hurt a fly." Faye meant that very literally. The two had once been sat outside – Carl had been there too, but he was sulking – and the insect kept buzzing around them. Patrick had tried to hit it with a comic book, but failed miserably. The event had even brought a smirk to Carl's face.

"A'ight." The man said, a sigh in his voice. "Jus' get some rest, 'kay? I'll come to check on ya later. If ya need me, get Patrick-"

"I'm okay."

(Maybe, if she said that enough, it would become true.)

Plus, if stayed with Daryl much longer, he would definitely notice her far from good health. Luckily for her – or at least, Faye thought it was lucky – the man hadn't pressed on about checking the wound on her arm, which throbbed no matter how she held it. After she flinched away from him, an instinct she couldn't help, he let the matter drop. By now, he must have forgotten.

Patrick approached them, Faye securing the smile on her face as she spoke. "Hey, Patrick."

Before the boy had a chance to reply, Daryl pointed a finger at her, but his tone was joking. Maybe he knew she was trying to fool the older boy. "Rest, ya hear me?" Faye nodded.

"So," Patrick began as Daryl walked away. "You're back?"

She shrugged. "I guess so. I was just heading to my cell to laze around for a while. I'm kinda tired."

"Ah, I see. I'll walk you to your cell."

Her cell. That was good. The cell was safe, maybe sleep would stop her body aching. The two began to walk.

The questioning began. "Where've you been? I thought you were supposed to be back yesterday?"

Oh, this was going to be harder than she thought. "Things just… got complicated. It happens. You deal with it." Faye said, although she couldn't quite force the enthusiasm she'd been hoping for. Patrick either didn't think much of it or saved her the embarrassment as he let the matter drop.

"Alright. Well, it's hardly been boring here. The run yesterday went bad. Everyone else had some cuts and bruises, I helped Hershel hand out some stuff." Patrick paused, before quickly defending himself. "Not that that was exciting though, just, you know, it wasn't uneventful. I don't want-"

"I get it." Faye shook her head. He was so awkward. "Did everyone make it back alive, though? That's what's important."

"No, there was this one guy who didn't make it back." Patrick told her the name, but Faye didn't recognise it. It wasn't someone from the original group, that's what was really important to the girl. Somebody was probably grieving right now. Faye wasn't one of them.

Patrick must have taken her silence as a sign that she was upset, giving the girl a moment of silence as they slowly walked. Eventually, though, he spoke again. "Hey, are you feeling alright? 'Cause, you're like, super pale."

The girl inwardly sighed. She had been hoping this wouldn't come up, the pounding in her head and arm, the urge to simply collapse right then and there. But, she could think on her feet. Lying was hardly a new thing to Faye. "Shitty couple a days, Patrick. I'd like to see how you'd end up looking." Joking was a thing she'd normally do. That might help. "Actually, no, I don't. I take it back. You'd look terrible."

The boy gave a breathy laugh, holding his hands up in mock defense. "I'm just saying. You're ridiculously pale. Pale means sick. Or vampire. Are you a vampire?"

Of course he would bring up vampires. That was such a Patrick thing to do. It almost brought a smile to her face, the conversation suddenly feeling so normal. Shaking her head, she replied. "Dude, vampires are the least cool monsters ever."

"No, they're not!" He tilted his head to the side. "Well, they're not my favourite. But, seriously, you don't look well."

"I'm fine, okay?" As if in protest, her head gave a particularly hard pound against her skull. "Just need some sleep."

The boy frowned. "I don't think sleep helps with slurring and not walking straight."

Wait, what? Was she slurring? Faye didn't think she was slurring. And this line was perfectly straight! With how slow they were walking, she didn't think it was difficult to walk in a straight line. One foot in front of the other, it was a simple concept. As if to prove she was fine, Faye stood still and glared at Patrick. He pulled an awkward face. "I think I'm gonna get Daryl, or something…"

The girl immediately took a menacing step forward. "Don't! I'm fine!" If Daryl came, he would check why she was acting strange, which would mean he would check the bandage, and no one was checking the bandage. She'd deal with it herself, it couldn't be so hard to get some painkillers from the other cell block.

The boy reached out to steady her, or perhaps place a comforting hand on her shoulder, maybe sensing her inner distress, but Faye backed away. She was talking. Not touching. No contact would be made. She wasn't ready for that yet, not all at once.

"Okay, okay, see?" Patrick held his hands up again, surprised by her actions, but didn't have the joking expression with them this time. "Not touching. Just… uh… go to your cell or something. Rest, yeah, like Daryl said."

Faye raised her eyebrows, sceptical. "And what are you gonna do?"

"Not get Daryl." At the girl's continued glare, he extended the words. "Or any other adult."

Seemingly satisfied, Faye nodded – quickly stopping as it did not aid the pains in her skull – and walked down the corridor.

Albeit not a steady walk, but a walk all the same.

Never before has the sound of a rumbling motorcycle been so relieving.

Carl wasn't anywhere near the gates at the time, but his ears had been listening for it for hours, and the noise finally came to his attention as it drove up the path in the field. He stopped what he was doing immediately; beginning with a walk due to the people around him, but the boy quickly found himself breaking into a run. Carl was far too impatient to take this slow.

He finally saw Faye, a smile breaking through on his face, as she, Daryl and Rick were walking past the top gate, the bike not having gone any further. The smile on his face began to fade when he saw Faye hiding in Daryl's side, his arm around her protectively, and even further when he saw the dark expressions adorning both the hunter and his father's faces. Something was most definitely wrong, and whatever it was had made Faye shrink into her body as if it were a shell. If he could tell this much from being far away, what would he find out if he actually spoke to her?

As the three figures approach, Carl strode forward, determined to find out what happened to make the two so late. Before he could get too close, however, his Dad held out a hand to stop him. The boy gave a questioning look to Rick, who returned it with a stern one. He moved out of the way silently, though, as Daryl guided her away into the cell block. Carl stared after Faye. Was she ignoring him because she was upset, or hated him?

Rick approached his son, but Carl spoke first. "What the hell happened?"

The man sighed. "They got separated-" He knew it. "-and the rain meant Daryl couldn't track her. When he did…"Rick trailed off, apparently unsure how to finish his sentence.

"What?" Carl pushed, brows knitted together.

"Faye was attacked. By two guys." He finally said, firmly. "A one girl versus to guys? They tried to… take advantage of that. You know what could happen in that situation."

Oh, he knew what could happen. He fucking knew what could happen. And it fucking happened to Faye. His Faye. And they dared to put their filthy fucking hands on her!

Seeing the way his sons expression turned sour, Rick tried to begin again. "Carl-"

"Are we going after them?" He snapped. Because if they were, he was going. There was no way in hell he was sitting out on this one.

His father frowned. "What do you mean?"

What the hell did he think he meant?! "Are we going to find them and get them for what they did?!"

"Daryl already dealt with them; they're already long gone. We have to think about what Faye needs now, not getting mad over how it happened."

"Then let me go see her!" Carl said, frustrated. All he wanted was to fix things, and now fix Faye.

"Carl!" Rick said, leaning forward the way he did when he scolded him. "This ain't something you can fix by sayin' sorry and giving her a hug. This is gonna take time, there is no quick fix. Her seein' you right now 's probably gonna make things worse."

The boy took some deep breaths. He had gotten really angry really quickly, and even if he ignored his Dad and went to see Faye, being mad would definitely not comfort the girl. "What am I supposed to do, then?"

Again, Rick sighed, more comfortable now he had Carl calm. "You give it time. Let the girl rest, maybe see how she's doing tomorrow."

Carl ended the conversation quickly after that, nodding as if he agreed. Which he didn't. He was seeing Faye now, nothing was stopping him.

(Except maybe Daryl, but he could deal with that when the time came.)

Maybe he would make things worse, but he owed it to Faye to try. She wasn't some china doll, the girl didn't break so easily. Not that he would hold it against her if she did. Nobody deserved this, least of all Faye, as far as he was concerned. It made him wonder how much it would take for the girl to finally collapse and give in to the world. She'd made it this far, but something traumatic as this changed a person.

Although he swerved away when Daryl left the cell block - because he'd probably not let him go, but be more blunt about it – Carl still made his way in Faye's direction. Why would Daryl leave her alone, anyway? Carl would have thought he'd be guarding the girl's cell. If he had been looking after her, Carl wouldn't have left her alone.

Opening the door, the boy entered quietly. However, he was quickly spotted by an agitated looking Patrick. "Oh, Carl!" He said, a little surprised. "I, erm, it's good that you're here!"

Carl raised an eyebrow, not wanting to get into a conversation with Patrick. He had better things to be doing, more important things. Nevertheless, he questioned him. "Why?"

"'Cause Faye's acting weird-"

No shit, of course she was.

"-and she made me promise not to get an adult, but you're not an-"

Cutting him off, the boy snapped. "You talked to Faye?"

"Well, yeah. She was with Daryl, but then he went when I arrived and I was walking her to her cell when-"

"Whatever. I'm going." How come Patrick got to talk to Faye?! That wasn't fair. He barely knew her! Carl was her best friend, and Patrick got to talk to her?! This was bullshit. Everything surrounding Patrick was bullshit. It was Patrick's fault that they had fallen out in the first place, he didn't get the right to comfort her after something like… this.

(He momentarily forgot that he had some blame in the children's fight.)

Carl resisted the urge to shove Patrick's shoulder as he walked past – that was a childish step too far – his footsteps heavy as he began down the corridor.

"Hey, you know, erm, I'm not trying to break you two apart."

In response, he stopped, grunting in reply. It annoyed him that Patrick wanted to continue this conversation. The whole thing was awkward and a waste of time, he wanted to get to Faye. Patrick continued. "I get it. Faye's super cool. And scary. I dunno, I just thought, since she brought me back, we'd all end up being friends."

"Scary?" Carl turned, raising an eyebrow. Surprisingly, it wasn't the last part that grabbed his attention. "Faye's not scary."

"Uh, she kind of is. Sometimes." He flapped one of his hands a little. "I mean, she pointed a gun at me!"

Carl hid his snigger badly. Damn right, she did.

"Look, what I'm trying to say is that I get why you get all protective of her and don't like anyone else-"

"I'm not protective of her." Even Carl knew that lie was a bit of a stretch.

The boy was about to protest again, but it was the older one who cut him off this time. "No, no, no, I get it, you don't wanna lose her. She's awesome. Good with comics, too. That's awesome in itself."

Carl stared at him for a while, trying to understand exactly what the awkward teen was getting at. He did know that Faye wanted the two to get along. Thinking of this – and that fact that Patrick wasn't all that bad, he had a good taste for comic books – he shrugged. "Okay."

Patrick gave a quick sigh of relief and rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, okay then, we're cool?" At Carl's not, he continued. "Okay, then, you should go check up on Faye now, I guess."

The boy did just this. Heading down the corridor, Carl realised how worked up he must have been, as he felt a hell of a lot calmer after talking to Patrick. Maybe that was one of the reasons Faye liked him.

Speaking of Faye, the boy finally lay eyes on her as she was leaning against the wall, apparently not even having made it to her cell. That was worrying.

Carl called softly, so as hopefully not startle her. "Hey, Faye?"

His efforts seemed to go to waste as her body visibly jumped. Standing up straighter, though her body still slumped over more than it should have, she turned her head, glancing to see him. Their eyes only met for a second before Faye faced away from him. He wasn't even close to her, but her usually bright green eyes were no longer that, instead giving her the look of a deer in headlights. Her response was weak and breathy. "Hey." She held a hand to her forehead.

Well, she wasn't exactly telling him to piss off, that was something. Problem was, he hadn't actually thought this far, other than actually speak to her. The boy improvised. "So, I was thinking that maybe we should talk, after everything." Maybe Rick was right, maybe she wasn't ready to talk to him. Surely, though, she had to know he wouldn't hurt her. Surely. When she didn't respond, he carried on awkwardly. "Or, you know, I could take you back to your cell, you could rest awhile." Again, after a silent pause, he continued, letting her think this over. "After you were gone, I got… kinda…"

(Say it, Grimes!)

"… worried, and stuff, so I just wanted to see you now. So, yeah." That was all he had. He was out of awkward conversation starters. Still, there was no response. "Faye. Faye?"

The only movement she made was to lean her hand against the wall, seemingly putting her body weight on it.

The boy took a step forward, frowning. "…Faye?"

Suddenly, Faye took a step forward and Carl froze as her legs stumbled, falling first to her knees and then forward again, arms not protecting themselves from the fall.

Forehead meeting the ground with a loud thud, the girl didn't move again.

Carl darted forward. "Faye?!"

Author's Notes:

Man, I'm loving the cliff hangers lately!

In truth, this would have been a lot longer – with as much fluff as I could realistically fathom – but a computer update deleted seven pages worth of work and I struggled to re-type it all. I'm not completely happy with what's there now, I feel like it's too forced. Maybe I'll go back sometime and re-do it.

On a happier note, that means next weeks update (SEASON 5 OMG I CAN'T REMEMBER BEING THIS EXCITED) will be full of fluff and adorableness. Probably some angst too, considering previous events, but fluff all the same.

Thanks for all the amazing reviews! They really motivated me while I had the tedious task of redoing everything!

Thanks.

Cobalt Flame.